


Operation Santa

by klutzy34



Series: Jersey Skills [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, M/M, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 16:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5504813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klutzy34/pseuds/klutzy34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Christmas Eve, Santa always pays a visit to the Williams household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Santa

“Grace.” Rachel spoke softly as she leaned down over her young daughter, hand resting gently on her shoulder to wake her. “Grace, you must come see who is here.” Her daughter’s eyes fluttered open and she yawned, a small fist pressing against her mouth, moving sleepily under the covers until that quick mind of her caught up. In the darkness of her bedroom, Rachel watched Grace’s eyes grow wider as she realized it was still dark out. “Quickly,” Rachel told her, smiling warmly as she held out her hand.

Grace scrambled out from under the covers, her hand slipping into her mother’s, long nightgown swirling around her legs as she quickly moved past Rachel and nearly dragged her out into the hall. Her attempt at moving quietly worked about as well as an elephant trying to sneak across the floor, but their visitor paid the sound no mind as he continued to work around the tree. Grace peered around the corner into the living room, mouth open, eyes as wide as saucers. She stared, transfixed, by the man in red moving round the tree, taking packages from the velvet satchel and placing them here and there. 

“Santa.” Rachel could barely hear her voice, but it was filled with wonder and awe. While Grace remained transfixed, she slid the small camera from her pocket and brought her daughter into the crosshairs, quickly snapping two pictures. Grace never blinked, or acknowledged the presence of the camera, and Santa never stopped at the flash. Instead, he placed the last package in front and swung the satchel over his shoulder again. 

She didn’t think her daughter’s eyes could get any wider, but as Santa swung around and met her eyes, the little girl went absolutely still. He smiled at her and gave her a wink before casting an amused look towards Rachel and turning to stride towards the door. Even after he left, Grace barely moved. “Mom,” she said finally, “Santa was _here_.” She started to finally rise from her hiding spot and pad towards the presents laid out, but Rachel caught her arm and gently spun her back towards her bedroom.

“Not until morning, Gracie,” she chided her gently, smiling as she waved Grace ahead of her. She heard the inhale of breath to protest, but a fondly stern look cut that off before it began. Instead, she crawled into bed without prompting and flopped down, pulling her stuffed bear into her arms. 

“After cinnamon rolls?” Grace asked quietly, stumbling over the big word. Rachel would miss her adorable little pronunciation when she grew into adult words. She tugged the blankets up over Grace and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“After jumping on the bed to wake your father up and cinnamon rolls,” she promised, sticking out her pinky finger. Grace hooked hers around it and shook firmly. Then, as if she could speed the time along, she snuggled down and closed her eyes. “Good night, my sweet girl,” Rachel murmured, brushing the hair away from her face. Once she was assured that Grace was comfortable and well on her way to sleep, she snuck out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Just down the hallway, she slid into her own bedroom and closed the door behind her, turning to find Santa struggling to climb in through the window. Quickly, she crossed the room to help catch him before he face planted on the floor and brought Grace running. “My, you’ve gotten graceless, Santa,” she whispered as she helped him straighten up. 

Santa tugged down his beard and pulled off his hat, revealing blond hair wildly sticking up in every direction from static cling. “Santa isn’t used to pulling all this bulk through the window with him,” Danny whispered back, starting to unbutton the red coat. Instead, Rachel placed her hands over his. 

“Not yet,” she told him, then reached into her other robe pocket, pulling out a slightly bent sprig of mistletoe. She held it up above them. “We’ve yet to complete the last part of the tradition, Mr. Claus.” 

Grinning, blue eyes twinkling merrily enough to give Santa a run for his money, Danny took her face in his hands and leaned in, lips softly brushing against hers. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Claus,” he whispered, following the first kiss with a light one on her forehead.

Rachel slid her arms around his waist and pulled him close, a bit awkward with the fake belly, and laid her head against his shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Claus.” 

\---------------

Charlie lay sprawled out on the bed, mouth open, arms splayed out, blond hair sticking out at every direction. Danny took a moment to appreciate the absolute peace his son conveyed while he slept. At his side, a stuffed dog in a police uniform, from one of his favorite shows, lay on its side. Charlie would give him a stern talking to later when he realized he was sleeping on the job.

“Hey buddy,” Danny murmured, shaking his son’s shoulder gently. He heard a soft creak behind him and Grace’s dark head poked around the corner. With a giddy grin on her face, she quickly snuck over to the bed and shook Charlie’s other shoulder.

“Charlie!” Her exuberant whisper warmed Danny’s heart and the two of them exchanged an excited look. “Charlie, you have to see who’s downstairs.” With a little more shaking, the boy woke up, fuzzily asking what was going on before Grace slipped her hand into his. “Come on. You have to be very quiet.” Placing a finger to her lips, she waited until Charlie climbed out of bed and grabbed his dog, then patiently led him from the room. Danny followed a few steps behind.

At the top of the stairs, Grace crouched down and pulled Charlie close, pointing down into the living room. As her own had done a decade before, Charlie’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, dropping his stuffed dog in favor of gripping the slats of the bannister. “It’s Santa!” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the man in red moving around the tree below, taking presents from his satchel and laying them carefully around. Danny could see the precision with which they were laid out and huffed in fond amusement. 

Crouching down, he pulled his phone from his pajama pocket and brought his children into the box on screen. Grace leaned in close to Charlie, her arm around him lovingly, Charlie’s small mouth dropped open in wonder, absolutely enraptured by the scene downstairs. Just like Grace, he didn’t even bat an eye when the phone clicked and the shot appeared on his screen. With a quick tap, Danny set it as his screensaver and sat down beside Charlie. 

Downstairs, Santa finished with the last package and threw the bag over his shoulder. With a graceful pivot that a SEAL might envy (Danny had to smother that grin), he started for the door, then looked up towards the stairs. Charlie sucked in a breath and stuck his arm through, waving to him. Santa smiled back, lifting his hand and waving up at Charlie. Then, with a click of his heels, he disappeared out the door. 

Charlie quickly got up and started for the stairs, but Danny scooped him up into his arms. “Uh uh, you. You are going back to bed where you will dream of presents and sweet breakfast foods that you can only have once a year until morning. Then you can jump on the bed while Papa Steve complains that it’s too early.” Not that it was, but Steve enjoyed making the kids work at it to get him out of bed on Christmas. 

Grace scooped up Charlie’s stuffed animal and followed them down the hall. “Chocolate chip pancakes?” he asked, tucking in against Danny’s chest. 

“You got it, buddy. With a lot of syrup and whipped cream.” All special treats in the McGarrett-Williams household when it came to breakfast and he could feel Charlie squirm in excitement in his arms. Entering the bedroom, he jokingly dropped Charlie on the bed and Grace set his stuffed animal beside him. “So are you going to go back to sleep?” Charlie nodded quickly, pulling his stuffed animal tightly to his chest. Danny tucked the covers up around him and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Good night, buddy. Sleep well.”

Once he leaned back, Grace ducked in to hug him and give him a big kiss on the cheek. Charlie made a show of wiggling in her grasp, but it quickly became giggles instead. After he’d quieted down, father and daughter ducked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Grace’s arms wrapped around his waist and hugged him tightly. “Thank you for letting me help, Danno. That was fun.” 

Danny kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you wanted to help, Monkey,” he whispered. “And now, when you have children of your own, far, far, far, far, very far, oh so very far in the future, you’ll have a tradition to pass on to them.” The thought of his little girl growing up with children of her own, and the sentimental nature of the season, made his heart clench and the tears well in his eyes. He shook his head. “Now you get off to bed too. The quicker you sleep, the quicker Charlie can drag you out of bed for breakfast and presents.” Also a tradition of the Williams, though he imagined that one went without saying for most households.

Grace off to her room, Danny snuck down to his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Santa, beardless and hatless, sat sprawled back on the edge of the bed, wearing one of the biggest grins Danny thought he’d ever seen out of him. “Did he enjoy it?” Steve whispered as Danny climbed on the bed, settling with his knees on either side of Steve’s hips. 

“He loved it.” Pulling the phone from his pocket, Danny brought up the picture to show him. Steve’s eyes softened as he gazed at it. 

“Send this to me?” he asked, finally breaking his look to glance up at Danny.

“Already done.” Putting the phone on the bedside table, Danny picked up the small sprig of mistletoe. “There’s one more tradition, Mr. Claus, and I refuse to let you sleep from your tiring duties until we make it happen.” 

Steve’s hands slid onto Danny’s hips, eyebrows raising. “Oh yeah?” Danny swatted at his hand. 

“Okay, not that, you animal. This is not the night for that, especially with the kids just down the hall. I did not buy them a year’s worth of therapy for their Christmas gifts.” Holding the sprig above his head, Danny grinned down at him. “But you can kiss me. Or I kiss you. Make your ch-”

Steve didn’t let him finish, tugging him down for their lips to meet, hot and sweet, gentle and passionate. Danny didn’t let it end until his lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen and he flopped over to Steve’s side, throwing a leg across his and an arm across his chest. Steve rest an arm under his head and turned to look at Danny. “Hey. Merry Christmas, Danno.”

Danny smiled in contentment, the moonlight filtering through the window flashing off the gold wedding band on his finger. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

**Author's Note:**

> I just had a small idea for a quickly holiday drabble! May you have a wonderful month, however you celebrate, whatever you celebrate!


End file.
